


Aladdin, the Sorcerer, and the King of Thieves

by TheLittlestShinigami



Series: Aladdin, the Sorcerer, and the King of Thieves [2]
Category: Aladdin (1992), Aladdin - All Media Types, Aladdin: The Animated Series
Genre: Adventure, F/M, Family Feels, Have some backstories, Lots of Mozenrath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-20
Updated: 2013-07-20
Packaged: 2017-12-20 18:40:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 20,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/890550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLittlestShinigami/pseuds/TheLittlestShinigami
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything seems to be going well for Aladdin. He has disempowered his most threatening foe by locking the magic gauntlet in the royal treasury, and he is marrying the girl of his dreams. But two men plan to crash the party. A re-writing of Aladdin 3.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Leaving

It was mid-morning in the Land of the Black Sand, though the sky was so thick with dark clouds that it seemed like midnight. A humble horse and cart were held stationary in the black sand dunes in the wilderness surrounding the Citadel. Two grotesque, half-dead mamluks gripped the young peasant who owned the cart. Before him stood the tall, lithe and dark figure of the young sorcerer, Mozenrath, his companion Xerxes floating by his shoulders.

"I'm telling you the truth!" the driver assured him, shaking. "I was just on my way to Agrabah for the wedding of the princess and the boy she has chosen."

Mozenrath rubbed his chin thoughtfully with his fleshy left hand. "Hm, so Aladdin and the princess are finally getting married."

Xerxes rested on his shoulder. "Good time to get gauntlet ba—" the flying eel was cut off when Mozenrath suddenly grabbed his throat. Xerxes got the message. "Sorry," he gurgled.

Mozenrath released him and looked back at the peasant. He smiled what was supposed to be a kind-hearted smile, but there was no deying the dangerous undertone.

"Now that I consider it," he said smoothly, "I don't believe you mean any harm."

The man's eyes enlarged with hope, completely ignoring the shadow behind his words. "Really?" he asked.

"Yes." Mozenrath looped his bundled right arm over the peasant's shoulders. "What is your name?"

"R-Ramin," the man answered.

"And what is it you do, Ramin?"

"I-I sell fine cloth and silk. I made a prince-worthy suit for Aladdin and a gown for Princess Jasmine." He said quickly.

Mozenrath smiled, his eyes half closed. "How sweet." The man sighed as the sorcerer dropped his arm and walked away from him. Mozenrath waved his hand. "Take his cloak and lock him in my dungeon."

"But you said you believed I was innocent!" Ramin cried as the two mamluks holding him tugged off his cloak and handed it to Mozenrath.

Reaching into the cart, Mozenrath found a large bag made of purple silk and opened it. He pulled out the beautiful white robe and pants suit highlighted with blue and gold that was meant for Aladdin. In no time, he had it on and was pinning the cloak around his shoulders.

"Perfect fit." He said pulling the hood over his head and climbing into the driver's seat. He set the distinguished turban on the seat beside him.

"You can't do this!" Ramin yelled as he was being pulled away. "Those are my silks, young man!"

"Young man?" Mozenrath placed his bundled right hand on his breast in mock astonishment. "You are barely my senior." He waved his left hand harder. "Take him away."

Ramin struggled against the mamluks, but it was no use.

"Xerxes, come." He commanded. Xerxes settled into the upturned turban. "Let's go congratulate the happy couple." He slapped the reigns and the cart began to move.

Xerxes turned to look at the peasant being drug away to the Citadel and laughed.

"Xerxes happy to get gantlet back. Master not have it long enough."


	2. All This For a Lousy Street Rat

Agrabah's streets were bustling with preparations for Aladdin and Jasmine's wedding. Everyone had somewhere to be or something to do and joy filled the kingdom on that special day. Even the guards were busier than normal, commissioned by the Sultan to keep everything in order.

Razoul had been given what, in his mind, was the epitome of dull duties; the guard at the city gate. He was in charge of watching the visitors and merchants lug their carts of gifts and supplies into the city and make sure no one dangerous got in.

Razoul sighed and let his head hit the sandstone archway behind him. He was captain of the guard! Shouldn't he be dealing with threats? Patrolling the streets? Standing by the Sultan in case of assassination attempts? This was a complete waste of his and Agrabah's time.

"All this for a lousy street rat," he grumbled.

A man leading a train of horses strapped down with baskets approached the entryway. He had a mysterious air about him. Razoul pushed up from the wall and stood in his way.

"Halt!" he bellowed. The man in the blue cloak and mask obeyed. "What's in the baskets?" he demanded.

The man in blue patted the basket closest to him. "Why, cranberries of the finest color and sweetest taste. See for yourself!" he offered, removing the top.

Razoul sauntered to the basket and looked inside. The basket was full to the brim with cranberries. "I've seen better," he mumbled sourly. "Go ahead."

The man bowed slightly in respect and led his horses into the city. There were many horses, Razoul recollected. Must have been about fifty.

Several harmless peasants passed by, but then another questionable character showed up; a man in a brown cloak pulled over his face, driving an old cart. Razoul stopped him.

"State your business," he commanded.

"I'm here for the wedding," the man said, obviously young by the tone of his voice. "I make fine silk. You can check if you don't believe me."

Razoul dug around in his cart and found nothing peculiar.

"Onward then," Razoul barked.

"Thank you," the young man said smoothly. He slapped the reigns and rode into the city.

Weirdos. Razoul thought, leaning against the arch again. Must be some acquaintances of Aladdin's.


	3. The Groom

Aladdin stood in the ruins that were his apartment, staring out the window at the palace. He held the dagger his mother had given him before she died, eliminating the remaining part of his family. When Ali, his three-years-older brother disappeared, his father had left the knife to him before he took off as well, never to come back. He ran his thumb along the rough, blue sheath. All he remembered of either of them were stories told by his mother, as she was slowly dying away and when she died, he didn't even have those.

He had been on his own for all but six years: three years after the vanishing of his father and brother. How was he supposed to be a good husband and father? He didn't even know what one looked like.

"What do I know about families?" he asked Abu sadly. Abu made sympathetic noises and climbed to his shoulder. He gazed at the sheath, the gild ring at the top reflecting the sunlight coming in the window.

Genie appeared outside the window.

"We can't start the wedding without you, Buddy!" His wide grin faded when he saw Aladdin's face. "Is something wrong, Al?" he asked gently.

Aladdin sighed. "Today's a big day, Genie. We've come so far and experienced so much, but I don't know how to be a husband. I just wish I had known my father. Maybe then I wouldn't feel so…naïve."

Genie poofed into a gong and a hammer. "Pre-wedding jitters?" The hammer struck the gong and made it vibrate.

"No," Aladdin said, pacing away from the window. "It's just, Jasmine deserves the perfect life and I don't know how to give it to her. I had the most imperfect life possible; I had no role-models to show me what a true man was. Both my father and brother disappeared before I was old enough to learn from them."

"I didn't know you had a brother. And you've never said a word about your father." Genie said.

"I don't remember anything about them except that my father's name was Cassim and my brother's name was Ali."

"So that's why you picked that name when meeting Jasmine." Genie smiled.

Aladdin smiled a bit also, thinking of the beginning of their friendship. "Yeah."

Genie put a hand on Aladdin's shoulder. "Well Aladdin, I'll tell ya; I've been around for a very, very long time, gone all over the world, and I have never met a better, more noble-hearted man than you. You'll do just fine. Jasmine loves you and you love Jasmine. I don't think anything could be more magical."

Aladdin hugged him and closed his eyes. "Thanks Genie." He said.

A flapping of wings caught his ear and when he opened his eyes, he spied Iago flying into the room.

"C'mon Aladdin! Let's get this over with so we can move on to the feast part of it!" he squawked.

The magic carpet floated up toe Aladdin and dusted him off with its tassels. It flattened out, Abut jumped aboard, Aladdin climbed on and they zoomed off above Agrabah, Genie and Iago flying behind, towards the palace.

Aladdin took a deep breath. "I'm ready." He whispered. "It's time to leave life on the street behind."


	4. The Bride

Jasmine sat at her vanity and watched her attendants fix her hair in the mirror. She couldn't keep herself from smiling, even when small mistakes occurred like misspellings of guests' names, the silk napkins being cream instead of white, and so on. It was the day she had dreamed about since nearly the first day she had met Aladdin – or, Prince Ali, as he had told her. They were finally getting married.

Having put the finishing pin in her hair, one of the servant girls took the veil from the vanity table and unfolded it. The white lace sparkled in the sunrays as it tumbled out to full length. With the help of the other hair dressers, she carefully set it over her hair and pinned it there with diamond-studded doves. They all stepped back and bowed with smiles on their faces; they were very happy for Jasmine.

As they departed, Jasmine's father ,the Sultan, entered her room. Jasmine stod and walked to him with her arms out. The sultan caught her in a warm hug.

"You look beautiful, Jasmine," he told her softly.

"Thank you, Father," she replied. He reached to her chin and pulled it gently down to his height. She consented and lowered. The sultan kissed her forehead affectionately.

"You've chosen a fine boy," he said, "I know he'll take car of you and the kingdom." He wagged his finger at her. "And you take good care of him too. A man needs to know the loyalty of his woman."

Jasmine giggled. "Yes, Father."

The sultan sighed and hugged her again. "I feared this day would never come, but now it seems to have come too soon."

Jasmine hugged him and tears welled in her eyes. She held them back, not wanting her eyes to be puffy for the wedding.

The sultan held her hands. "You two will make each other very happy. And… I cannot express how proud I am to have you as my daughter."

They embraced once more and then went out, hand in hand, to the beautiful room where all the guests had gathered. Jasmine was giddy with excitement and nervous. Out of all the adventures she and Aladdin had gone through side by side, this would be the most wonderful and dangerous of all.


	5. Cassim

The man in the dark blue cloak led the horses into a dark and quiet part of the city. He rapped his knuckles on one of the baskets and whispered to it. The basket began to expand and constrict and through the top sprouted a dark man with a conniving scowl upon his face as he brushed the cranberries out of his hair.

The next basket began to mimic it and when the commotion was over, forty thieves armed to the teeth with a lust for gold and blood, surrounded their leader. He smiled behind his mask; the plan was going perfectly.

"Cassim!" came the harsh call from among the horses and men. The masked man looked in the direction it came from and saw the most ill-humored man by far of his band pushing bodies out of his way as he stormed up to Cassim. Sa'luk. The men parted quickly, not wanting to be on the unfriendly end of the burly man's sharp golden claw piece he wore over his knuckles.

Cassim had trouble with Sa'luk; he was always complaining and challenging his authority. He always went along with Cassim's plans, and he never missed a raid, but it was always a frustrating process getting there. Sometimes, he considered being the ruthless, cutthroat leader his men expected of him by plucking this thorn from his side, but he could never bring himself to go through with it.

"Why were you the one to walk with the horses? I am much larger than you, so why did I have to stay stuffed in a cramped old basket?"

"Because you would have attracted too much attention." Cassim explained patiently. "No one would have believed you to be a well-meaning wedding guest."

Sa'luk traced his mustache. "No, I suppose they wouldn't." he answered.

Cassim motioned for his men to listen. "Remember the plan," he said quietly. "half of you will come with me hidden in the baskets of cranberries. I'll lead you to the back of the palace, where I'll find a way inside. The other half of you hide in the stables. Then, when I give the signal, you spook the animals into a stampede towards the palace and while everyone is distracted, we rob them all. But the real raid will have already happened. We'll make two raids in one!"

The men laughed and clapped their hands together in excitement and support for the mission. Sa'luk crossed his arms. He had nothing to say.

Cassim motioned toward his men on the left. "You get back into your baskets and you," he motioned to the right. "You follow Sahid." Sahid, a small-built, middle-aged man nodded. Sa'luk's jaw dropped and then hardened into a scowl.

"Why not me?" he demanded. "I'm more capable than Sahid!"

"Sahid is quick and that is what I need for this mission. Plus, he is my right hand man." Cassim didn't bother too much with placating him. "Alright. Go! We'll be inside the palace as soon as we can get these men buried again."

Sahid bowed slightly and headed off. Sa'luk, after shooting a last glare at Cassim, followed after the second in command.

"My," Cassim thought out loud as he began shoveling berries out of a basket. "Temper. I hope he doesn't foul up the plan."


	6. An Ordinary Party Guest

Mozenrath drove the cart down a deserted alleyway and parked it behind a heap of rubble that used to be a building. He climbed down between his horse and the wall and uncovered his head. Xerxes wriggled out of the cloth he was hiding in at the foot of the cart and hovered around his master.

"Now comes the fun part," Mozenrath told him.

He breathed and then, with his left hand, conjured a mirror on the side of the building. The gauntlet might have been his main source of power, but he was not totally destitute. He still had what he had learned before the gauntlet. Before it drained his life source… before it ate his hand like an acid. He still wanted it back, even so. He needed it. Since he had lost it, he had thought about nothing else. He had lain awake at night thinking about how to get it back and how to punish Aladdin for stealing it.

He stooped and poured some water from a flask into the dirt and smeared the mud across his cheeks. It darkened his skin until it was the hue of a typical Arabian. He covered every patch of white skin on his face and then moved on to his hand, wrist, and neck. When he wiped the gritty mud of and looked in the mirror, it was like he had been transported back years, but also, not. Actually, he felt like he was looking at someone else's reflection… someone a little familiar…

Mozenrath looked away and began yanking off his cloak. He dug in one of the sacks of silk, searching for a strip of something to wrap his fleshless hand in. Xerxes dove into another sack and came back out with a long strip of red silk between his teeth. Mozenrath took it and began wrapping it into a glove around his hand. With Xerxes' help, he tied it and tucked the knot under the cuff of his sleeve. Xerxes brought him the matching turban and Mozenrath fitted it over his curls. He turned around to face the mirror again and smiled at his clever disguise. He looked like a rich party-goer. No one would recognize him even if they were looking; which they weren't. He would disappear easily in the crowds of guests, sneak into the treasury and get his gauntlet back. No one would ever know. That is, until he burned Agrabah to the ground.

He laughed at his cleverness.

"Come Xerxes," he said removing his turban. Xerxes flew inside it and he replaced it on his head. He made the mirror disappear and walked off towards the streets where the sunlight reached. "We have a wedding to attend."


	7. The Wedding

Jasmine, perfectly decorated in her slim, silken wedding gown and jewelry, with her hair braided and clasped with golden clasps underneath her delicate veil, stood outside the sealed doors of her father's throne room. The four young girls chosen as her flower girls stood between her and the doors, fidgeting with the multicolored pedals in their baskets. Trumpets blasted joyfully from inside and Jasmine drew a deep breath to calm her nerves. Aladdin… pretty soon, he would be her husband. She blushed and restrained herself from jumping in excitement.

Speaking of her soon-to-be-husband, there he was, riding Carpet through the front palace doors towards her. He grabbed her hands tenderly and kissed her.

"You look beautiful." He whispered excitedly.

"It's all real, isn't it?" she asked, swooning slightly.

"It sure is." He replied.

She laughed and hugged him. "You should already be up there on the alter, waiting for me."

"Don't worry, I'll make it through the secret door and in place in seconds."

"Well you'd better hurry; the trumpets are already blowing."

"Al!" Genie exclaimed disapprovingly as he flew in. "You're not supposed to see the bride before the wedding!" he pushed Aladdin and Carpet towards the hall. "Sorry Jaz."

"I understand, Genie." She chuckled.

In less than half a minute, the doors swung lazily inward and the flower girls returned to their lines and scattered pedals as they walked down the aisle. Jasmine looked ahead to the altar that was beautifully decorated with white lilies and red satin carpets. Her father sat on the throne in the center of the platform in his best robe, and Aladdin stood beside him as if he had been there the entire time.

He certainly made in to the altar quickly. She thought as she smiled at him knowingly. Aladdin shrugged ever so slightly.

Jasmine smiled at her father and then back at Aladdin as she took her first steps down the aisle. No sooner had she, when the floor began to rumble. All the guests were alarmed and a few let loose short panicked cries. Aladdin was confused, but never afraid. Jasmine ran to him and he held her close as they watched the palace outside shake. Suddenly, elephants, camels and horses came into view, racing towards the throne room. The guests were in a panic.

"Everyone, stay inside the throne room!" Aladdin yelled as he jumped down from the altar. "Genie!"

"Right here, Al!" the genie replied taking his place by his side.

"Think you can keep them all out?"

"Think?" Genie turned into a tough-looking cowboy with a prickly beard and disheveled clothing. "I can keep them dogies in their place." He disappeared and popped up across the room where he shut the doors, created large locks and chains to hold them tight.

"Thanks, Genie." Aladdin called as he disappeared through the secret passage. Jasmine followed him.

When they reached the outside, however, they realized that the animals were only part of their problems. Running through the palace and trying to get inside the throne room were thieves. But not just any thieves…

…These were the forty thieves.


	8. Things Were Going So Well Too...

Mozenrath walked quickly and quietly yet still keeping his invited-guest façade, down the beautifully decorated marble and now empty hallway of the palace. He thought he still remembered where the treasury was.

"Know where treasure room is?" Xerxes asked from underneath the turban.

"Of course. Now, quiet." Mozenrath whispered harshly as he turned a corner. When he did, he nearly collided with another wedding guest. They shared a look of surprise before Mozenrath snapped back to his disguise.

"I wasn't talking," the older man in purple silk said.

"What?"

"You told me to be quiet, didn't you?"

"No," Mozenrath said, now thankful that he had answered the eel so curtly and not mentioned anything specific. "I was just thinking out loud." Then, before the man could question why a person would tell himself to be quiet, he added: "Did you know the wedding had begun?"

The man was distraught. "It has?" he gasped.

"Yes." He replied.

The round, middle-aged man began running the way Mozenrath had just come from.

"You'd better hurry yourself, young man!" he called as he disappeared around another corner.

"Don't call me 'young man'," Mozenrath growled as he continued on. He had heard the trumpets blow, so hopefully the wedding had started, and the man would not come suspiciously creeping back up the hallway. What was that man doing anyway lurking about in the empty back hallways of the palace?

"Probably looking for a bathroom." Mozenrath concluded as he arrived at the steps that descended to the royal treasury. It was only moments before he stood at the red double doors.

"This is it, Xerxes," he said excitedly, removing his turban to let the eel out. He threw it to the side and prepared to unlock the door with a spell he had learned many years ago. …In fact, he learned it while Destane was still lord of the Black Sand, since he remembered using it to get into the wizard's cabinets…

"Do it!" Xerxes prodded aggressively.

Mozenrath breathed, held his right, silk-wrapped hand out at the doors. He spoke the words and tensed something intangible inside his body. Pure blue flame-like magic filled in the crack between the doors, and he fell to his knees suddenly. Wow… he didn't remember that spell ever taking that much out of him before.

Xerxes, full of alarm, hovered down to his master's face. "Tough spell?" he asked.

"Don't worry about me, Xerxes." Mozenrath said as he slowly got to his feet. His skeletal hand burned.

"Xerxes can't help but worry about master." The eel shrugged with a lop-sided smile on his fish-like face.

"Did you hear it click?" Mozenrath asked.

"What click?"

"The lock! Did it work?"

"Xerxes no hear unlock."

Mozenrath crossed his arms and stroked his chin as he analytically stared at the doors. He wiped the gritty mud that had stuck to his fingers onto Xerxes. Xerxes made a face but said nothing and set to licking it off of his back.

Maybe it had worked. Mozenrath pressed one hand per door and pushed. Sure enough, they creaked inward. When his eyes adjusted the dim light of the room, he saw something entirely unexpected, someone had beat him to the treasury and was digging through the gold that was piled everywhere.

"Someone here, Master." Xerxes pointed out.

Mozenrath was furious without quite knowing why. Perhaps it was because he had gone through so many obstacles already, or maybe he was concerned that the thief might snatch the gauntlet before he could. He shoved the doors open and stormed into the treasure room. The man stood and faced the door at the sound.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded as if it were his throne room.

In the man's hand was the latest trinket he had handled: a scepter with a large emerald at the top held in place by two small rods of braided silver, brass and bronze. He pointed the scepter at Mozenrath.

"Go back and enjoy the wedding, boy." He said with a strong voice.

Mozenrath stormed towards him. "Get out of here," he commanded, reflexively aiming his right hand at the cloaked thief.

"I won't ask kindly again, young man." He countered, bending his knees, getting his posture ready for battle.

"Neither will I…old man." Mozenrath glared and solidified his stance as well. He tried to remember how well he fought without his gauntlet.

The man scowled for a moment and then his brow softened in a smile, though his mouth was obscured behind a blue veil. He began walking towards a large chest in the middle of the riches, as if Mozenrath were not standing right there in a threatening way.

This was too much for the sorcerer's pride. Mozenrath ran towards him, planning to kick him or something; he hadn't quite decided yet. That chest was where they kept the gauntlet last time and if it was there again, that impudent fool would meet his demise by Mozenrath's hands.

As Mozenrath rushed up the gold pile behind him though, the man flashed around and planted a hard kick to his stomach that sent him rolling backwards down the gold coins and across the floor and little ways.

"I told you to leave, boy!" the man hollered angrily. "Now go, before you really get hurt!"

As Mozenrath was struggling to his feet, Xerxes flew at the intruder, fangs bared. The man had more trouble stopping the quick eel and Xerxes finally bit him in the tricep. The man yelped, pulled off by the tail and threw him across the room where he hit a wall and fell to the floor stunned. The distraction was just enough for Mozenrath to trip the man and jump on top of him. Just as he swung a fist at him, the man grabbed a nearby lamp and threw the oil in the sorcerer's face.

Mozenrath missed the man and only succeed in losing his balance, sliding halfway down the gold before stopping himself. The man stood and looked at Mozenrath, whose false pigment was coming off with the oil. He drew back in disgust.

"Are you allergic to lamp oil?" he called.

"No, that's my face!" Mozenrath shouted as he scooped the gold out from under the man, causing him to fall and start sliding towards him. Mozenrath kicked him and the man slid all the way down, still holding the scepter.

Mozenrath scrambled to the chest and pulled at it; it was locked. Definitely, the gauntlet was kept inside. If he used magic to unlock it, he would be exhausted again, but then he would have the gauntlet and could win this fight. He stretched his hands, said the words, tensed and the crack between the trunk and the lid filled with blue fire. The lock clicked open and Mozenrath yanked it open even as he was falling to his knees. Inside was a velvet bag, which he quickly grabbed. The rope was ted in a terrible knot.

"You've got to be kidding!" Mozenrath cried.

Xerxes flew up from behind and began biting at the rope. Mozenrath took the opportunity to glance at the blue-cloaked thief, who was standing and watching. The sorcerer didn't have time to wonder why because Xerxes bit through the rope and Mozenrath pulled the gauntlet, like a lost book, out of the bag. He began yanking at the red silk tied around his right arm and unwrapped it as quickly as possible, for the gauntlet could only pull power from direct contact with flesh.

"Whoa!" the thief gasped when he saw Mozenrath's skeletal hand. Then he, as he should have, realized he was dealing with someone much more than a wedding guest. He pulled his mask off, revealing his strong bearded chin and intelligent expression.

"Who are you?" he asked.

Mozenrath slipped the gauntlet on and was surprised by the wall of pain that hit him and even cried out a little and held his gloved hand tightly to his chest for a moment. Finally he opened his eyes again with fierce determination as he used the trunk to stand up.

"I am Mozenrath, the lord of the Land of the Black Sand, conqueror or the seven deserts!"

"Funny, I thought the seven deserts were ruled separately." The man replied in a cocky, ill-mannered jest.

"Not for long!" Mozenrath insisted. He raised and charged the gauntlet, exhaling a sharp grunt at the pain. "I'll start by ridding my new kingdom of you!"

"No!" Xerxes protested floating between his master and the thief.

"Get out of the way, Xerxes!" he hollered.

"Mozenrath need rest, need get used to gauntlet again! Besides, Aladdin coming; Xerxes smell it!"

As much as he didn't want to admit it, the eel was right. If he fought Aladdin and his group right then, he would lose and destroying the smart-mouthed thief would put him in that situation. He smiled wickedly at the man as if he was doing exactly what he had planned.

"Be sure to fill your pockets with the best stuff," he said in good humor. Mozenrath opened a vortex in the air and stepped into it, closing it just as soon as Xerxes was inside.


	9. Escape from the Palace

Cassim stood in the center of the room, still staring at the place in the air where the boy had disappeared. He thought he had heard of the Land of the Black Sand before, but he had never heard of Mozenrath. Well, whoever-he-was's flying fish thing said he smelled someone, and so if he wanted to get out of the treasure room with the oracle, the scepter he had been searching for, he would have to leave at that moment.

He re-attached the veil across his face and made for the door, but no sooner had he reached it than a young man in a groom's wedding clothing barreled into him, causing them both to fall backwards into the treasury. Cassim found his feet quickly and so did his attacker. They both got ready to fight.

"The parting gifts are given after the wedding." The young man said.

"I think the wedding's over, don't you?" he countered.

"I don't think you were a guest."

"I was bruised when I didn't get an invitation." Cassim ran towards him and slid between the boy's legs, but the boy hopped and switched direction quickly and grabbed the scepter. Cassim flipped onto his back and kicked the boy, sending him heels over both of their heads and onto his back; he hadn't let go of the scepter, though.

The boy planted his feet on Cassim's chest and wrenched the scepter from his hands. When he had, he held his arm around his neck to keep him still. Fortunately, Cassim had learned how to get out of such a common hold and by using his weight to pull him to the floor, he got loose with the scepter.

"I grow tired of this, boy," Cassim said as he got to his feet and irritably repositioned his cloak.

"Get out of our treasure!" came a grating voice. Cassim turned towards the door and dodged the angry parrot that was swooping for his head, squawking the words.

The boy tackled him from behind but Cassim punched him on the side of the head and got free, yet the boy yanked the scepter away from him again. He could hear men running in the hallways and realized that if he didn't leave now, he might not get the chance to and then might never obtain the oracle.

He pulled a small dusty ball from his breast pocket and threw it to the floor. A cloud of smoke exploded and filled the space by the doorway on both sides. He ran up the stairs and deeper into the palace, hoping to find a balcony in one of the rooms. Cassim ducked into a room to avoid being seen by the guards that were quickly pouring through the hallways and when he turned toward the source of light, he saw a balcony.

Cassim ran onto the balcony and looked around for anything to give him a safe landing. A tall, bushy tree grew ten feet away and beneath the balcony, but he hadn't another choice since a number of guards burst into the room and hollered at him. Cassim climbed onto the railing and leaped, adrenaline pounding and heart racing. He landed in the tree and grabbed the first branch he could, which broke causing him to fall further until he grabbed a sturdier branch.

It would not be long before the guards who saw him relayed the message and the garden in which he landed in was crawling with them. Cassim quickly dropped to the ground, ran past the fountain, climbed a tree that grew next to the wall and dropped over it.

He hurried among the buildings, racing back to the place he had told his men to meet afterwards. No one had made it to the treasure room, unless they did after he left, but perhaps they got enough gold from the rich party guests to keep this raid from being a total loss. Cassim ducked inside an abandoned building as the sun was setting, making the dunes outside the city look like hot, orange glass.

Well, now he knew exactly where to find the scepter, and what he would be up against to get it. Where did such a rich-looking young man learn to fight like that? He pondered until his men began to arrive, their shirts and belts bursting with loot.


	10. The Scepter

Jasmine knelt and picked the strange scepter up from the floor.

"This seems to be the only thing he wanted," she said handing the short, golden and beautifully decorated rod to her fiancé – not husband: not yet.

Aladdin turned it over in his hands. "I don't remember what is so special about it; it looks just like an ordinary scepter."

"I came out of an ordinary-looking lamp," Genie noted as he hovered around the treasure with a clipboard and pencil, making sure nothing was missing.

"Good point," Aladdin replied. "Well, there's no inscription on this one." He rubbed the emerald on the top, then the scepter's long, smooth side and waited. "Nothing," he said, holding it back, thinking that it might be an ordinary piece of treasure after all.

"Al," Genie gulped, "he may have left that jewel behind, but he sure made it out with the Cave of Wonders." Aladdin, Jasmine and Iago hurried to the empty trunk he was staring into with a worried expression.

Aladdin plucked the empty velvet bag from the gold pile beneath their feet. Having been the one to tie the bag and lock it in the chest, he recognized it right away.

"He took the gauntlet," he whispered.

"This glove business is never going to end!" Iago squawked. "But, if he had the gauntlet on him, why didn't he use it?"

Suddenly, the scepter in Aladdin's hand began to glow and shake and an otherworldly woman's voice cried: "Your question is mine to answer!"

Aladdin let the scepter with the blinding light coming from the emerald float to the center of the room. The light burst straight towards the ceiling and widened until the ghost-like figure of a woman in flowing royal robes appeared, suspended in the air above the scepter. Jasmine moved closer to Aladdin who stepped in front of her, in case this strange image was not friendly.

"What is it?" Aladdin asked Genie.

"An oracle," Genie replied in awe as sunglasses appeared before his eyes. "I haven't seen one for a long time. Hard to find you know. Most of them are hidden inside objects like genies are."

"What did it mean about answering our question?"

"Oracles know everything past, present and future, but answer only one question per person," he answered.

"That wasn't my question! If I knew about that whole one question rule, I would have asked something else! I didn't even know what you were!" Iago hollered desperately. Genie grabbed the parrot and shushed him before setting him free.

"The King of Thieves did not steal the gauntlet; he came only for me. The one who has taken the gauntlet was the one who owned it before you," the oracle said in a calm, ethereal voice that echoed in the air.

"Mozenrath," Jasmine said, coming forth.

"Yes," the oracle replied. "He has taken it back to his home in the Land of the Black Sand."

"How did that creep sneak in past the guards? He couldn't just pop inside the palace without the gauntlet!" Iago pointed out.

"You have already asked your question," the oracle insisted.

"I wasn't asking you," Iago grumbled. "Stupid oracle."

"He must have used a potion or something," Genie reasoned, ignoring the disgruntled parrot.

"This is a great find, Aladdin," Jasmine said. "We can learn anything we want, from our futures even. We could even learn how to stop Mozenrath for good."

"I don't want to know my future other than that it's with you, and I know that already." He replied. "And I know how to stop Mozenrath for good," he said more uncertainly. "But, I don't want to do it."

"I can't say I do either, Al," Genie said. "I'm not so crazy about being the death of him."

"Your past then," Jasmine said. "I know mine, but do you have questions?"

"Yeah, buddy. You were just talking about wanting to know what happened to your family," Genie prodded.

"Your family?" Jasmine asked.

"My mother died when I was just a kid, but I don't know what happened to my father or brother. I don't see how I could summarize everything into just one question, though."

"Ah, but if you find your family, perhaps they are able to answer those questions." The oracle said gently.

"What? They're still alive?" Genie asked, shocked.

"They are indeed," the oracle answered.

Aladdin looked at his feet, overwhelmed. Jasmine lay her hands on his shoulders.

"We will need some time to think," she said.

"When you are ready, all you must do is ask," the oracle said as it dissipated.

The scepter flew back to Aladdin and he grabbed it, stunned by what he had just learned. His whole life he had wished that his family had been alive, had imagined what it would have been like to grow up with them all, but it had been at the same level of wishing to fly, or breathing underwater; he had always known it was impossible. Then again, Aladdin did fly and had breathed underwater. Still, in light of everything that had happened to him since the demise of Jafar, realizing that over half of his family was still alive somewhere and trying to ponder the possibility of actually meeting them again, the first two impossibilities seemed rational.

"Are you alright, Aladdin?" Jasmine asked softly.

Aladdin didn't know. His world had been turned inside out and he had the choice to let it fade back to normal, or to twist it even further. How could he be alright? He felt numb. Overwhelmed. The confident hero of the tales that had begun to spread throughout the seven deserts was frightened and wished that someone could make such a decision for him.

"This is big news, Al," Genie said gently.

"Yeah," he coughed incredulously, "no kidding."

Iago huffed disdainfully. "I say, leave them alone. All these years they haven't come to find you, so why should you go after them?"

"Part of me wants to agree with you, Iago," Aladdin said, "But then I think: what if they were in the same situation as me? I didn't realize they were even alive! Maybe they don't realize I am either." Aladdin handled the scepter and stared at the emerald. "But, I have no idea how they have changed. I hardly knew my father and my brother was only six. Maybe they… I don't know."

"I am sure there is nothing to worry about," Jasmine assured him hooking her arm around his. "You are a saint, and if they share your blood, I'm sure they are too. You have plenty of time to think about it, but I think you ought to search them out, if for nothing else than to bring resolution to your past."

Aladdin smiled at his bride-to-be. "Thanks, Jasmine. I know you're right, but I can't bring myself to ask right now." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Strange, isn't it? To see me like this?"

Jasmine kissed him and there was a pause. "I'll be with you, no matter what."

Aladdin took a deep breath and then held out the scepter. "Here I go," he sighed. All in the room stared at Aladdin as he mustered the courage to speak the words he knew would change his life forever: "Where is my family?"

The scepter glowed and broke loose from his hand. The sheer-like woman appeared in the air again and looked peacefully down on Aladdin.

"As you know, your mother has passed on. But your father and brother are both held captive in separate parts of the land. Your father is with the forty thieves while your brother is within Destene's Citidel," the oracle instructed.

"They're prisoners? Both of them?" Aladdin asked, shocked. "Are they alright? How long have they been captive?"

"I'm sorry," the oracle said as she dissipated. "I can only answer one question." The scepter floated towards Aladdin and he plucked it out of the air pensively.

"I knew knowing would cause trouble," Aladdin said quietly. "But I don't regret it. I have to find them and rescue them."

"I hate to tangle with the Wiz-kid again, but I'm coming with you," Genie said.

Abu squeaked a "Me too!"

Iago crossed his wings stubbornly. "No way. I am not going to be dragged on another of your crazy adventures."

"How many times have you said that and then come along anyway?" Aladdin asked.

"Too many." Iago answered.

"We wouldn't expect you to do any fighting," Genie explained. "Just moral support, as always."

Iago thought for a second or two, and then shrugged. "I guess I could manage that."

"I'm coming too, Aladdin," Jasmine said.

"What?" Aladdin asked, incredulously. "No way! Our wedding!"

"Not much is going to happen without you here concerning that," she countered. "And my father can take care of what does happen. I don't want to be anywhere but by your side."

Aladdin smiled. "I suppose I can't change your mind?"

"No, you can't."

"Ok then," he said. "We'll leave in a few hours. After the forty thieves first, then to the Citidel."

Genie, Carpet and Abu made sounds of affirmation while Iago slapped a wing to his face in distress. "How do I get myself into these things?"


	11. Cause for Celebration

In a hallway inside the dark, silent palace, a blue light sparked, flickering off the ebony walls and disappeared. After a few seconds of nothing, the same light returned in an explosion that lit up the hallway and echoed off the walls; a spiraling mirror wreathed in blue flame appeared floating about the ground. Out of the mirror stepped Mozenrath, followed by Xerxes. The portal began closing before Mozenrath had finished exiting, and he quickly pulled his foot out of the rapidly shrinking mirror before it disappeared all together.

That hadn't happened for a long time, Mozenrath noted. But it was nothing; he just needed to get used to the gauntlet again, he assured himself before Xerxes could notice his anxiety. It was too late. When Mozenrath looked up from straightening his clothing, his companion was staring at him with concern. Mozenrath scowled and batted him away.

"What?" He demanded.

Xerxes slowly turned around and began floating down the hall towards the main room. "Nothing," he replied quietly.

What did that eel mean? Mozenrath felt like he was being warned, though silently; or even chided. How dare he? Mozenrath ran after Xerxes and caught him by the tail.

"You have something to say to me, Xerxes?" he asked threateningly.

Xerxes stared at his master fearfully. "Xerxes not mean anything!" he protested. "Master should not be angry; master won!"

After glaring at the eel for a moment more, Mozenrath released him and continued down the hall. Xerxes was right; it was not the time for anger, they should celebrate! He indulged in a self-satisfied smile.

"Can you imagine the look on Aladdin's face when he saw the chest empty?" he asked Xerxes humorously. The longer he thought about it, the greater it was. He laughed. "Can you imagine his terror? He must think I'm up for revenge." He charged his gauntlet and turned it in front of his face. "Well, there's no sense in disappointing him." He whipped around and shot a beam of magic down the hall where it eventually hit a pillar. When he did, he felt a pull on his chest and head, as if a strong wind had hit and blown part of him away. He stopped walking until he could balance again and took a deep breath. Then he laughed at his triumph again. He glanced at Xerxes; there was that strange expression again, even noticeable in the darkness between wall torches.

Xerxes must have realized the face he was making and forced a smile. "Xerxes fix some food to celebrate. Bring out some wine too."

"I'm not hungry, Xerxes," Mozenrath said. "I want to go straight to the lab and start plotting my revenge on Aladdin." He started down the hallway again with purpose.

"Can plot while eating," Xerxes protested floating quickly after his master. "And not had wine forever. Special day, master." He floated in front and faced Mozenrath. "Very special day."

Mozenrath looked at Xerxes, a strange eagerness behind his companion's eyes. Come to think of it, Xerxes had seemed more eager of late towards things like that. He always had been one to press Mozenrath to eat, sleep and such, but lately he had been more vigorous. Yet, he could not imagine any hidden motives, except maybe that Xerxes wished to eat and sleep more often. …He had not thought of that. How long had he had Xerxes? Since he was just a boy. Mozenrath didn't know anything about Xerxes' kind, even after many exploratory tests, but he always thought he would live indefinitely; or at least close to it, as most magical creatures did. At least he thought they did. Maybe Xerxes' kind didn't live quite so long.

"You are free to eat and sleep without me, you know," Mozenrath said feigning annoyance.

"Xerxes don't want eat and sleep without Mozenrath," he answered.

"Insufferable eel," Mozenrath mumbled to himself. Xerxes would just have to learn to eat alone, because Mozenrath was not going to bend his schedule to the waning health of his assistant; he wasn't a nurse.

"Meat and cheese in the kitchen," Xerxes commented.

Then again, a meal sounded good.

"Very well," Mozenrath consented. "Prepare some food and I'll send a mamluk to the cellar for a bottle of wine. I'll be in the lab." He glanced around once they reached the main room. "Where is everyone, anyway?"

"Probably guarding silk merchant," Xerxes offered.

"Oh yes," Mozenrath said stroking his chin. "I forgot we had company."

"What Mozenrath do with him?" Xerxes asked.

"I haven't decided," he answered. "He may be of some use in my plan yet. Let him live for a while until I figure out what to use him for." Mozenrath sighed and crossed his arms. "I suppose we should go down to the dungeon before we celebrate our victory. A little torment, show off my new clothes, make him think he'll stay in that dungeon for the rest of his life…"

"Good etiquette," Xerxes added.

"Indeed," Mozenrath continued nonchalantly. "What kind of hosts would we be if we ignored our guest?"

"Bad hosts," Xerxes answered though the question had been rhetorical.

The two walked down the thin hallway and to the short staircase that went down into his dungeon. Xerxes had been right; mamluks clogged the area, many more guards than were needed for a simple peasant. Mozenrath pushed them aside.

"Out of my way," he hissed taking the keys from the hand of a mamluk cowering in the corner. He unlocked the cell door and opened it to even more mamluks. "What is the deal with all of you?" Mozenrath asked in exasperation.

"Get back!" Xerxes commanded the creatures and they parted down the middle for their master and his pet. At the back wall, his hands chained above his head to the wall, drooped the wilted version of the silk merchant.

He isn't lasting long, Mozenrath noted. Whenever he captured Aladdin or any of his posse, they stayed vibrant and aggressive until they escaped. Or, at least that happened in the past. There would come a day when they would not escape.

"I best not tease him very much, Xerxes," Mozenrath said turning to his friend. "Or he may not last to be any use to me."

At the mention of himself, the young man lifted his head up and gazed fearfully into the eyes of the sorcerer. "Please, sir, let me go," he pleaded. "I know nothing. Please, I have a family."

"Aw, did you hear that, Xerxes? He has a family," Mozenrath said in mock sympathy. Xerxes laughed cruelly and Mozenrath approached the man until he stood uncomfortably close. "A bit of advice: forget about them, because you'll never see them again."

The silk merchant hung his head and began to weep softly. He drew in a breath and stared, firmer, into Mozenrath's eyes. "I cannot forget them, for they are my most prized possession."

"Fine, don't forget about them," Mozenrath said turning his back to him and raising his hands into the air. "Think about them all day long." He lowered them and faced his prisoner again. "It'll just make your time here less enjoyable."

"Their love will sustain me," the man insisted weakly.

"'Their love will sustain me,'" Mozenrath mocked. "What kind of garbage is that? 'Their love will sustain me.' You won't have any food tomorrow. We'll see how well their love sustains you then." With that, Mozenrath spun on his heel, causing his cape to swoop alongside him and he left the cell. He addressed the mamluks: "some of you, come with me. The prisoner doesn't need so many guards. And your ugly faces are probably what's making him fade so quickly." The mamluks obeyed and followed their master out, a mamluk closing and locking the door behind them.

"Get bottle of wine," Xerxes ordered one of the creatures. "Bring it to the lab." The mamluk nodded and went silently ahead.

"It has been a glorious day, Xerxes," Mozenrath sighed.

"Yes, glorious," he answered. "Let's get dinner."

Mozenrath agreed and sorcerer and pet strolled down the dark hallway, into the entry room and down another towards the kitchen.


	12. Across the Desert

Aladdin and his friends left early the next morning before Agrabah awoke. The trail of the forty thieves was clear to follow, but they did not know how far the bandits had come. Iago remembered some tracking techniques his former master had used to pursue his obsession through the desert and guessed, by the amount of new sand in the footprints, that they had left Agrabah the night before, almost immediately after they made the raid on the palace. It still didn't help gague the distance to their hideout, Aladdin pointed out, but Iago angrily replied:

"Hey! I don't see anyone else with their noses to the ground!" No one pestered him after that.

Aladdin sat down on a bleached boulder protruding from the sand. "We've been all over this desert," he reasoned, "so either their hideout is further away than we've gone or it's very well concealed."

"I see your point," Genie spoke up, motioning at the expansive, sandy wasteland that stretched for miles. "It isn't exactly easy to hide in this desert until you get to the canyon, or the cliffs."

"And the canyon is almost a day's journey from Agrabah," Jasmine added. Abu contributed a nod and climbed onto Aladdin's shoulder.

Aladdin had anticipated as much. When he told the sultan they were off after the forty thieves and then Mozenrath, he gave the impression that it wouldn't be a day-or-two journey. The concerned sultan had made a few feeble attempts at convincing them to stay. "They have my father and my brother still lives also. I can't go on living in Agrabah knowing that they're alive and needing my help," Aladdin had said. That had silenced the sultan. "Fine," the short, old man had conceded, "protect my daughter, Aladdin. When you return, all of Agrabah will welcome you and your family to the wedding. I hope to have most of the repairs at least underway by then. When did you say you plan to be back?" Aladdin said half a week should be enough time. Now, if everything went as planned – and how often had that happened? – his guess would be just about right.

Aladdin squinted against the rising sun and watched the tracks disappear in the heat waves beginning to snake up to the sky. "The trail's easy to follow," he remarked as he stood. "Well, we'd better get a move on. We don't know how far their hideout is, and we don't want to wait for a sand storm to blow their tracks away."

Carpet rose into the air and flattened out, ready for his flightless friends to board. Jasmine, Abu and Aladdin climbed on and sat cross legged – except for Abu, that is – holding onto the edges of the rug as it soared across the desert against the rising sun. Genie and Iago followed close behind.

Aladdin leaned forward, eyes determined and jaw firm; he was not in the mood for pleasant discussion. All he could think of was being reunited with the family he had thought died a long time ago, and his anger at their captors. The forty thieves might have abducted Cassim as a hostage, to ensure Razoul and the other guards didn't lay waste to their lair, but what would Mozenrath want with Ali? Perhaps Ali had grown up to be a wealthy tradesman and he was being held from his wife and children for ransom. Or, maybe the sorcerer was holding him in hopes of luring Aladdin into a trap – even though he had apparently forgotten to alert Aladdin of such a prisoner. Still, Aladdin was ready to go through fire, snow, starvation and even torture to get his father and brother back; they were all that was left of his old family, and they deserved to be part of his new one.


	13. Contemplation Around the Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had my first listen through of the soundtrack to "Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time" composed by Harry Gregson-Williams. Boy was it inspiring! It's exciting story-oriented Middle Eastern music. Perfect for inspiring another chapter of this. Not a very exciting chapter, but I believe it was needed, to show what each group I'm following did after the big raid.

The lair of the forty thieves was littered with poorly-tied bags of costly metals and jewels. They had scored so much that gold coins lay idly in the dust and were tread upon. The men lay on cushions, enjoying the last bits of the extravagant meal they had bought themselves to commemorate such a joyous occasion.

A smile was on each face. Why shouldn't there be? It had been a perfect raid. And yet… Cassim felt cheated. He hadn't cared about the gold, though it was a nice bonus, he admitted; the prize he had been after had been kept from him. He swirled the wine in his goblet as he stared into the fire at the center of the enormous cave; when could he go back?

It had been hard enough to convince his men to assault the palace; he had gone blue in the mouth assuring them of all the riches, and how worthy such risk would prove to be. They didn't take much interest in the oracle, he knew for a fact. When he had told them about it before the raid was planned, some had wondered aloud about what price it would get in the market. Cassim tilted his head back and tipped the last few drops into his mouth. No, if it was not made of gold or didn't hold much hope of gaining them gold, his men would have nothing to do with it. If he was to get the oracle, it would have to be a lone mission, as it always had been. It would not be easy, but the oracle was worth it, even for the slim chance that what he wanted to find could still be found.

Cassim bit into a leg of chicken and chewed pensively. Sneaking into the treasure room and sneaking out would be near to impossible, especially since the sultan would have doubled his guard. Not that that young man with the glove would have any trouble if he fancied returning to the palace. He had disappeared into thin air, obviously reappearing somewhere else. If Cassim could get hold of that glove, he could be in and out of the treasure room without the slightest bit of disturbance… or planning, for that matter. But how to find the boy?

"Why the long face?" asked Sahid, sitting down beside Cassim with a cluster of grapes, as if the planets had aligned and meant to stay that way.

Cassim smiled cunningly at him. "Just planning another raid."

Sahid laughed and rocked backwards. "Planning a raid? It's only a day after the last one! Why don't you enjoy what we've done for a little bit, at least, before getting back to work? Grapes?" he held up his vittles.

Cassim took a few from the vine and popped them into his mouth. They were very sweet. For a fleeting moment, he believed he would be content just to keep a vineyard and eat its fruit every year. It would be a lonely thing to do by himself, though.

"You see Sa'luk?" Sahid asked, motioning with his grapes towards the large, bald man a hundred or so feet away. "Even that sour puss is having a good time." It was true; Sa'luk, the king of finding fault in all things, was sitting on the ground with a group of men, laughing about something.

"You don't see that every day," Cassim mentioned.

"No." They were quiet for a few moments, watching Sa'luk in his group. "Did you find it?" Sahid asked.

Cassim hadn't expected such a sudden and direct question, but he answered it anyway. It was no secret. "I did, but I ran into some trouble with a man in the palace."

"He fought you for it?" Sahid asked incredulously, as if anyone who even dared must be out of his mind.

"Yes," Cassim replied, "I could have taken it back, but my window of escape was quickly shrinking."

"I see."

"So I let him have it."

Sahid paused. "So, this wasn't really a success for you, was it?"

"Not in the way I had it planned."

"Too bad," Sahid commented. "I would have liked to see something truly magical like that work. I guess we can't lift everything, right?"

"Indeed," Cassim said, though he did not agree. He was not giving up on the oracle.

There must be a way to find that sorcerer. He could have come from anywhere in the world, but he had to have come from somewhere. Such a man probably had stories circulating about him. If he went back to Agrabah – well disguised, of course – perhaps he might pick something up from the locals.

"Sahid," he said, looking into the man's eyes. "Have you ever heard anything about a glove of power?"

"A glove of power?" Sahid repeated, wracking his brain. "No, I don't believe so. What is it?"

"It is a glove with magical abilities. There are only a few out in the world, each with different powers," said Cassim. "I met someone yesterday, who had one. He could create doorways in the air with it."

Sahid's eyes grew as he caught the significance. "If we could get our hands on it, we'd never have to sneak anywhere. The hard part would be done! Is that the raid you were thinking up a minute ago?" asked the man, now eager to hear the plan.

"The very one. There's only one problem, and it's a heavy one: I do not know where it is. The boy disappeared into thin air. No tracks. Now, he seemed like a memorable character, so I'm thinking, that I'll be able to learn something about him back in Agrabah."

"Maybe a rumor?" Sahid asked.

"Exactly," Cassim replied.

Sahid nodded, thinking it over. "It is a good plan. Though all your plans are extremely clever, so I'm not surprised. Are you going alone?"

"I think it would be safer that way. The guards will be keeping their eyes open for groups of strangers," Cassim answered as he stood. "I'll tell the men in the morning. I doubt anything of consequence will stick tonight. I'll leave after noon, to arrive after dark; maybe then I can sneak inside a little easier." He took another bite from his meat and spoke. "When I'm gone, wait for me. When I get scent of him, I'll come back and we all will go after him together. I might have more to say tomorrow before I leave, but that's the gist of it." He stepped around sacks of gold on the way to his tent. And turned back towards Sahid with his crooked, prickly smile. "Don't say any of this to the other men, alright? Not until I can show them how beneficial it will be for all of us."


	14. An Unexpected Meeting

Cassim climbed onto his horse with a pack over his shoulder as the sun reached the top of the sky; not the most pleasant hour to travel, but it would be much better than hiding a ways off from the walls of the city, waiting for night to come. He was on his way out of the cave when Sa'luk stepped towards him.

"Make sure you come back for us before going after that man," he reminded his leader.

"Sa'luk," Cassim said, without slowing his horse. "your tone implies some mistrust. Have I ever lied to you?"

"Not that we know of," Sa'luk replied with a strange, skeptical glint to his eye as he stepped out of the way.

Cassim sighed to himself. Seriously, if it were not more dangerous to abandon Sa'luk than to keep him, he would have expelled him from the group. His opinions poisoned the men like dye in water. Much of the inner squabbling would probably cease if Sa'luk were not there to cause trouble.

Cassim slapped the reigns and his horse darted forward to a bare corner of the cave. He slowed his stallion and held up one hand.

"Open sesame!"

He called out the words and at their echo, the rock walls pulled aside like a curtain, flooding the cave with daylight and foam on the crisp sea breeze. The water fell away from the side of the cliff providing just enough dry sand for a horse to step across. When he made it to the beach, the cave closed, appearing as an unoffending sea cliff and the water splashed across the pathway. Cassim patted his horse's neck gently; his steed was still spooked by the rushing water and the thundering rock. Cassim looked to the horizon, seeing where the rocks ended and where rippling desert sand took over.

"Back to your streets," he mumbled to himself. Whenever he thought of Agrabah, his emotions mixed so thoroughly yet each so forceful, that he wanted to stay away and return with equal passion, each for the same reason. To look for something he had lost, and yet, he was afraid it could no longer be found. He spurred his horse onward at a walking pace towards the city.

What if he found them again? Could he bear returning to them without their son? Maybe he would see them in his gossip gleaning. However, it was best not to hope too much; after all, he had searched for them before to no avail. He wondered how big the boys had grown; he wondered if either looked like him.

His mournful reverie was broken by the sound of voices not far away. Cassim dismounted and pulled his horse between two large black rocks, pressing himself into the thin noonday shadow. Occasionally, brave or foolish thieves came nosing around the cliffs. Cassim never bothered them; what was there for them to find? It was impossible to guess the entrance to their hideout. He remained as still as stone, hoping that whoever they were would lose interest and return the way they had come, so Cassim would not have to confront them and spark suspicion.

As they came closer, there were no walking hooves. Instead, he heard the sound of thick cloth beating in the wind. A flag, maybe? Common thieves would not come bearing a flag. Could the sultan's soldiers have tracked them? No worry; they would not have find the entrance and when the trail ended at the sea, they would leave, befuddled. Cassim was tucked nicely in between the rocks. He would wait for them to leave.

The flapping grew louder and Cassim watched the pathway intently, wishing he had swept away his footprints. He led his horse further into the rocks, meaning to sneak out the other side. Suddenly, something flashed over head, red and purple, a flash of light blue, and then it was gone before he could see what it was. It must have been the largest bird in existence!

The voices came from it overhead. As he reminded himself to keep moving, he heard the voice of a young man between he and the sea.

"Hold on, Carpet. I saw something."

Cassim cursed internally and moved quickly. There were no soldiers in the open sand between his rock and Agrabah. Where were those who were talking? They hadn't passed the rocks yet. Getting them into a chase would be futile, since there was nowhere to hide and eventually, they would give up or he would need to turn and fight them. So, he went in among the other taller rocks, hoping to allude them.

Leaving his horse behind a large rock, he climbed on top of it and flattened out to spy on the intruders. The only thing he saw was what, in the glaring sun, looked like a floating rug. The rug drifted lazily near the water's edge, but then stopped and began coming towards him. Cassim had been spotted. He slid quickly from the rock and made for his horse, but the rug dropped in front of him piled with people, and he was forced to stop. When he did, he recognized the boy that looked at him with an intelligent, determined stare; it was the same one from the palace.

Oh no, Cassim thought. That means the sultan is probably in on this. He braced himself for a fight.

"Did you come back for more?" Cassim asked humorously.

The young man stood up amongst his comrades on the floating rug. "If I remember correctly, I won that fight," he countered.

"I escaped."

"Hey Al," came a grating voice from the carpet. Cassim searched for the source of it and then realized that it came from the red parrot on the man's shoulder. "He's not wearing the glove!"

"Quiet, Iago," the woman with long raven-black hair shushed gently.

The band before him was a strange one indeed. For one thing, they were made up of three humans, a bird and a monkey, and one of the humans was an unnatural blue color. It could have been tattoos or dye, Cassim supposed, but still it was mighty odd.

"What glove?" Cassim asked.

"What glove indeed!" the blue man said, crossing his arms. "The big, magical one?" he held up his hand and, if Cassim's eyes were not deceiving him, it grew a brown, glowing glove!

Cassim rubbed his eyes, in case the glare was skewing his vision. It still remained. A magician? Who were these people?

"Look, we know you took the gauntlet from the treasury," the young man said. "Otherwise, where did it go?"

What they were saying finally made sense. "Oh, you think I took your magic glove? Is that what this is all about?" he relaxed a bit, lowering his arms and straightening up. The young man, Al, as the talking bird had deemed him, stepped off of the rug and onto the sand. He was about as tall as Cassim. "If I had that thing, I wouldn't be wandering around out here with a horse. I'd be inside figuring it out."

"And where is inside, exactly?" the blue man asked.

Cassim smirked. "You may have found me, but I'm no fool." He laughed. "As if I'd tell you."

He surveyed the ragtag group, finally resting his gaze on the boy in front of him. His eyes were as hard as flint, and yet something lay behind them. Desperation? No, that wasn't quite it. Maybe longing. Yearning. Either this glove was some sacred treasure of Agrabah – and Cassim couldn't ever remember Agrabah keeping anything especially sacred – or there was more to this ambush than the treasure. The curly-haired boy hadn't broken eye contact with him yet; it was unnerving, so Cassim looked away.

"Listen, kid," he said pacing to the side, "I don't have your glove. I ran into someone in the treasury who was after it, and he took it. All I came for was the oracle, and since the only thing I got was you on my tail, I'd say the whole effort was a waste."

There was silence for a while. Well, silence from any meaningful conversation; the parrot continued on about how Cassim was a terrible liar, how he probably had the whole place surrounded, how he couldn't believe how disgusting such a liar was…

"I don't think he's lying," Al said. "After all, Mozenrath surely wants the gauntlet back. He could have slipped inside the palace while everything was chaotic and taken it, couldn't he?"

"That's possible," the blue man agreed. "All he would have to do is find a way in and then he could poof his way out."

"Yes!" Cassim said, facing them again. "That's exactly what he did! You mean you've met this man before?"

"Oh yes," the blue man replied, "dozens of times."

"That's an understatement," the parrot mumbled.

"I'd suggest you call on him then," Cassim grumbled, stepping around the rug to get to his horse, though he thought sneaking into Agrabah was probably out of the question for another day or more, now that these kids were gallivanting across the desert on a quest of their own.

"We can't," Al protested firmly. "Not until we get what we came for."

"I already told you I don't have the gauntlet, as you call it," Cassim replied, annoyed.

"No, but you are holding someone prisoner," he insisted.

Cassim paused, not having expected such an accusastion. He motioning around at their surroundings with his arms. "Do I look like I can afford to keep prisoners?" he asked.

"Release your prisoner and we won't tell the sultan," the woman spoke up.

"Tell the sultan what?"

"That we found the lair of the forty thieves," she finished, moving to stand beside Al.

Cassim backed up. "Now just hold on a minute. I never said I was with the forty thieves."

"But you are, aren't you?" Al inquired, stepping closer to Cassim. Cassim didn't answer. "Please," he continued, a different tone to his voice. "we just want your prisoner. He's my father. He's not worth anything to anyone but me."

Cassim didn't know where the boy had gotten his information; they didn't have any prisoners! He and his men had agreed not to mess around with prisoners, hostages or ransoms. It just got too messy and plus it was incredibly difficult to keep track of a hostage in a cave. Al's father was not there. Poor kid. However, maybe Cassim could use this to his advantage.

"How about I make you a trade?" he asked cunningly. "I'll give you your father in exchange for leading me to this Mozenrath character."

"Are you out of your mind?" the parrot squawked flying towards him. "You want to go see Mozenrath? You'll find yourself a prisoner, if you do!" He lighted on Al's shoulder.

Al turned to face them and spoke softly, probably intending to exclude Cassim from their discussion, but he heard it anyway: "This may be our only chance to find Dad." That seemed to quiet their opposition. Al faced Cassim again and nodded. "Deal."

Cassim smiled and nodded as well. "Wonderful. When we get back with the glove, I'll give you back your father."

Al hesitated. There was nothing to hear for a few seconds but the roaring of the sea and the calling of sea birds. "Alright," He agreed eventually.

Cassim mounted his horse and the couple, Cassim could tell by their mannerisms, mounted their rug. He was instructed to follow them on horseback, and he consented. He wondered who this Mozenrath was that caused the parrot to react so vehemently. He would find himself a prisoner, what was that all about? Surely such a young man could not be much of a threat against four people, when one was the King of Thieves and another was a magician. He pondered this as he followed the carpet parallel to the sea, towards a horizon that looked unnaturally dark for that time of day.


	15. Collision

Mozenrath had finally gotten used to his gauntlet again, which helped him concentrate on his work; he could ignore the pain again, though he was more tired than he thought he should be with so much power coursing through his body. Mozenrath sat at his workbench, looking through a magnifying lens suspended above the messy wooden table at the torn threads in a fabric. The cloth was made from the curtains that used to hang in Destene's bedroom. He had stolen them from an old woman living in a different dimension who had sewn them to keep magical creatures from entering through the window. Mozenrath had discovered that when carefully taken apart and rewoven into a cloak, it acted as a shield to outside magic. However, it only worked when all the threads were connected, therefore fixing the tear was crucial. He bound together two threads with a small stream of magic.

Xerxes had ripped it while being his own, clumsy self. Mozenrath sighed to himself, annoyed. He would have commanded Xerxes to fix it, but repairing anything so fine with those fins and teeth was impossible. So Mozenrath was required to fix it himself, while Xerxes sulked across the room. He didn't mind as much as he let Xerxes believe, for every thread repaired excited him further about how he would use it to dominate Agrabah. The seven deserts were on hold until he pulled that thorn from his side. There was no ignoring the fact that until he rid himself of that town – Aladdin and his posse in particular – his conquer of the rest of the Middle East would be a long, painful, and very unproductive road.

"Master?" came a mournful, slippery call from across the room.

"What is it, Xerxes?" Mozenrath answered impatiently. "And be brief; I'm concentrating on fixing your mistake."

"Xerxes really so sorry for—"

"I said brief, you eel!" There was silence before Xerxes continued.

"Fire storm coming," he reported. "Xerxes see it on horizon. Be here very soon."

"Oh yes," Mozenrath mumbled, looking away from the cloth. "I had forgotten."

Several years ago, Mozenrath had been experimenting with magic and the weather when he discovered he could alter a thunderhead to rain fire; a great advantage, except it was alarmingly uncontrollable, and entirely self-sustainable. It floated randomly across the desert, melting whatever small protrusions it came across, and it passed over the citadel roughly twice a year. Mozenrath had to build a magic barrier around the important parts of his kingdom every time the fire storm, as the two now fondly called it, came around.

Mozenrath looked over his shoulder at the old eel staring out the window. A heaviness settled upon him for a moment as he wondered what he would do without Xerxes.

He jerked at his own thoughts and whipped around to focus on his work again. He would do what he had always done except more efficiently without Xerxes messing things up. Without him spoiling his plans, without him talking his ear off… There was no longer a need for him to stand up to Destene. He remembered as a boy, Xerxes would protect Mozenrath, and then Mozenrath would keep Destene from destroying Xerxes for that protection. Mozenrath glanced over again; Xerxes was lying on the windowsill watching the firestorm approach. The eel locked eyes with him for a second before Mozenrath shot to his feet.

"I am going out to put up the barrier," he announced brusquely as he walked quickly over the cold stones to the door. Xerxes launched lazily from the windowsill and floated to his side.

"I want you to stay here," Mozenrath stopped him. "Stay here and… keep guard. Over there," he motioned to Xerxes' small sitting bed on a table by the far wall.

Xerxes followed Mozenrath's finger and then looked at him quizzically. "But what to be guarded in here? Xerxes always come with Master—"

"Do not question my orders!" Mozenrath hollered. "You may be my oldest servant but you're still my servant." That seemed to scare Xerxes into submission and he flew slowly over to his bed and sank into it, peering above the edge with his dark, fish-like eyes. Mozenrath nodded in satisfaction and turned, only to collide with a mamluk.

"Ugh," he grimaced in disgust, brushing the dust off the front of his blue silk suit. "What?" he demanded.

The mamluk grunted and made some hand motions towards the door, his eyes very wide. Still, Mozenrath had not been a charades prodigy and could only make out that there was a threat. Or maybe the silk merchant had escaped; that was laughable. A man such as that escaping his dungeon? Ha! No, it was something else.

"Seriously," Mozenrath muttered as he stormed after the mamluk down the dark hallway. "sometimes I wish you guys could speak."

The entire journey had been awkward, traveling with his father's captor, though the thief didn't seem too self conscious about that fact. It was only Jasmine's gentle hand on his arm that reminded him not to do anything that might compromise his father's freedom. The citadel was easy enough to break into; Aladdin had come often enough to know all of the sorcerer's tricks. They had split up, genie, carpet and Iago had flown out of the range of the magic detectors– fool me once... – and lighted on the roof of the citadel, waiting a certain amount of time, after which they would assume something had gone wrong and would be able to come to the rescue.

However, nothing would go wrong. Aladdin knew the location of Mozenrath's dungeon well by now and once they opened the massive cherry wooded doors, he led the group quickly to the far corner of the main room. The only thing he could focus on was his brother, trying to picture what he looked like, what he acted like. Aladdin couldn't remember him at all except he was taller than him. Though, he was three while Ali was six, so of course he had been taller.

He glanced back to make sure everyone had stayed close; his father's captor was trailing a bit, gaping at the arched ceilings, ebony pillars and the intricate carvings along the walls. He joined them at the bottom of the dungeon staircase just in time to see that the door was locked.

"I can pick the lock," he whispered, pushing to the front of the group. "Let me help."

"Or we can use the keys," Aladdin said holding up the key hanging on a nail in the wall. The thief stared for a moment and then shrugged, his eyes smiling above his mask.

"Well, if you want to do it the easy way," he whispered in good humour.

Aladdin unlocked the door and pushed it open. Inside hung a frail man in chains against the wall and he hurried inside.

"Ali!" he whispered harshly. The man looked up and into Aladdin's eyes, hopeful, but then they lost focus and filled with fear.

"Look out!" he warned and Aladdin ducked just in time to dodge the sword of a mamluk. He spun around to fight the two that had stood silently against the walls. He was not concerned about winning this fight, since there were four of them, assuming the thief would fight, and only two enemies. What he was concerned about, as Jasmine took out one on her own and he silenced the other with Abu's help, was that the ruckus would alert Mozenrath.

As quickly as the battle had begun, it was over, with limbs spread across the floor – always a pleasant result of tangling with one of those ghoulish creatures. The thief had stood by the door, dumbfounded. Aladdin didn't pay him much attention, though.

"You—you have come to rescue me?" the prisoner asked, his face shining with gratitude. Aladdin approached him quickly with Abu on his shoulder, and together they began working on picking the locks that bound his hands. Though Mozenrath had left the key to the cell hanging outside the door, he must have kept the other key with him.

"Of course," Aladdin said, barely able to contain his joy. "My name is Aladdin. Are you my brother? Are you Ali?"

The man looked into Aladdin's eyes for a painful moment and then surveyed the rest of the group, all watching him intently. He took a deep breath.

"Yes, I am Ali."

His chains fell away at that same moment and Aladdin embraced him, burying his face in his shoulder, tears quietly moistening his eyes. Jasmine came alongside them and lay a hand on the prisoner's shoulder.

"It is an honor to meet you," she said, grinning.

"I didn't think I'd ever see you again!" he sobbed. "Not that I remember you very well, I was only three you know. But, oh Ali! I can't wait to get back to Agrabah! I'm living in the palace now—"

"Ali…"

Aladdin was cut off by the breathed word. Everyone turned towards the thief, whose eyes were unlike anything Aladdin had seen of them yet, full of bewilderment. He walked uncertainly toward the group. "You're Ali? …And… your name is…Aladdin?" He held out his shaking hand as if desiring to touch one of them, but afraid they might blow away if not approached carefully.

Aladdin wiped his eyes on his vest and stood to face the mysterious man. "That's right," he answered bravely. "What about it?"

"You don't remember me," the thief asked flatly. When Aladdin shook his head, the man gripped the folds of his cape over his heart and laughed painfully. "Can't even remember his own father; shows how much of an impact I made."

Aladdin couldn't believe the words that came out of his mouth even as he spoke them. "Are you Cassim? Are you our father?"

The thief looked at the ground, his brow furrowed in pain of mind, then he looked up into Aladdin's eyes, with all seriousness yet joy abounding behind them. "I am."

"If you are Aladdin's father, than why did you pretend to have him prisoner?" Jasmine demanded, approaching him.

"It was the only thing I could think of to get you to take me to Mozenrath," he confessed, looking only shortly at Jasmine before taking in eyefuls of his boys again. "I don't even remember why anymore! Ali," he said, running to his son's side to help him stand. "Ali, I am so sorry I couldn't find you until now," he said staring pleadingly into his eyes, his own moistening. "Believe me, I searched and searched and searched. But your captor left no trail to follow, so I went after the oracle, which did have a trail, a long one, but a trail." He made short awkward movements, as if he wanted to hug him but had forgotten how. "I… I would have taken your place in a heartbeat. I can't imagine what he has been doing to you these past years. I…" The words did not come easily. "I hope that… someday you will be able to forgive me."

Ali awkwardly embraced Cassim, his father, and they remained like that for a while. "Of course I forgive you," Ali said cheerfully.

Aladdin's entire world had been disrupted. When the oracle had told him his father and brother were still alive, he had not imagined how unreal it would feel to actually see them, to hear them and touch them. But Aladdin was angry. How could his father have allowed them to think he was holding a prisoner, to manipulate them? Yet, how could he let anything come between them after such a long estrangement? Cassim had been desperate; Aladdin could relate to that. There would be many things to sort out, but the beauty was they would have time to do just that.

"Come on," Aladdin said, looking around. "Let's get out of here before Mozenrath discovers us."

"Oh, too late," came the honey-smooth voice Aladdin could recognize anywhere. He turned around to see mamluks filing in to fill the room, with Mozenrath blocking the doorway, a twisted grin on his pale face.

"You picked the perfect room to invade," he commented. "Saves me the trouble of hunting you down."


	16. Ali

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the long-awaited (at least for me) chapter. I had this scene quite vivid in my head since I began the story.

"What a pleasant surprise," Mozenrath sighed as his mamluks surrounded the little band of heroes. "I was going to come after you, Aladdin, probably tomorrow. But, you've saved me the trouble by showing up in my dungeon! Won't Xerxes laugh to learn of this!"

The thief stepped forward. "Please, Mozenrath, let us leave. We only want your prisoner. We'll leave immediately."

A hissing and rumbling vibrated off of the stones in the dungeon. Conversation stopped and Mozenrath looked quizzically at the ceiling. He heard arguing in the main room behind him.

"Quiet, Wonder Worm. You don't want to wake up Daddy."

"Yeah, clamp it!"

"Mozenrath!" came Xerxes' frantic voice as he flew to his side. "Genie here! Aladdin close by!"

"No kidding." Mozenrath motioned into the dungeon. Xerxes was stunned, glanced at Mozenrath, and then smiled.

"Master so quick," he flattered. "Catch Aladdin before Xerxes even know he's here."

"Al!" the genie said, hurrying forward but stopped by mamluks.

"We're alright, Genie," Aladdin called back. He rested his hand on Ramin's shoulder.

"Oh, is that your brother?" Genie asked excitedly.

Aladdin grinned as large a grin as Mozenrath had ever seen in his life. "It is."

Iago looked between Ramin and Aladdin and then between Ramin and the thief. "Eh, must look like Mom."

Genie nodded and then puffed up his chest. "Well, Mozenrath, it looks like you're surrounded." He transformed into a lion. "I suggest you step out of the way."

A lion, really? Mozenrath laughed. "I have won against you numerous times, have you forgotten?"

"And have you forgotten that you always lose in the end?" Iago squawked bravely. Xerxes growled at the bird, which quickly deflated his courage, causing him to fly behind Genie, only barely peaking out.

Aladdin turned to the thief and spoke quietly, though Mozenrath could still hear the gist of it. "Dad, I'll distract him, and you—"

"Dad?" Mozenrath chuckled scornfully. "This riffraff is your father, Aladdin? It fits so well! The only other past I could conjure for your coming into existence is having been washed up on some beach!" Though he laughed, anger burned inside Mozenrath at the stupidity of those before him. Was everyone in the world related to each other but him? All the love was sickening; he loathed it! He pointed his gloved finger at Aladdin purposefully.

"You know, Aladdin, it isn't your foiling of my plans that ticks me off. Sure, it's annoying, but I could respect you as an enemy for your resilience and cleverness. No, Aladdin. The thing I hate about you the most, is this." Mozenrath motioned around himself at everyone. The genie, Jasmine, his rug and pets, his long lost family. He breathed heavily, his eyes sparking with rage. "You are so obsessed with 'friends' and 'family.' You never talk about anything else!" he spat. "Everything you are revolves around them!" Mozenrath closed in on Aladdin, pouring all the hatred he could through his eyes.

"I'll bet you've never gone one day of being alone," his voice shook with tension. "Well, I was going to get rid of you immediately, for the sake of business, but I've had a change of heart. I am going to destroy everything you hold dear, force you to be alone, and then if you don't die on your own from that, I'll kill you."

"But Master!" Xerxes broke the mood when he rested on Mozenrath's shoulder. "Have Aladdin in dungeon! Kill now! Win now!"

"Silence!" Mozenrath demanded, scrambling to get hold of Xerxes. He grabbed his throat and glared at him. "This is how it's going to be. This is the only way to have a satisfying revenge on Aladdin."

"Master don't need this," Xerxes gurgled, struggling for breath. "Cause more harm than good."

The thief stepped forward. "Let them all go and take me instead. I caused this mess anyway, and I came after your glove of power."

Mozenrath looked slowly at the thief. "You want it?" he asked, aiming his gauntlet. "Well, here it is!" He shot a bolt of magic at the thief, who dodged it. Mozenrath squeezed Xerxes tighter.

"I'll deal with you later, Xerxes," he hissed and then threw the eel to the side and shot another bolt at the thief. Then one at Aladdin. At his example, the mamluks attacked and the small group was forced to fight back.

Genie, still in lion form, quickly disposed of the mamluks behind Mozenrath. Mozenrath made a mental note to figure out a way to make them sturdier. He charged his gauntlet and aimed it at Aladdin, letting loose the most powerful burst of magic he could muster. The fiery, blue ball flew at Aladdin, who leaped out of the way, and blasted a hole in the dungeon wall. He felt the pull on his chest and head again, and he waited a few moments to regain his balance. As he did so, he looked out the hole he had just created, and noticed something glowing outside in the dark. Curious, he walked closer, and his jaw dropped. Where the ground used to be, now a deep, molten chasm had been carved by the fire that was falling from the sky. He groaned inwardly and fell against the wall; he hadn't put the barrier up in time and now the fire storm was ravaging his kingdom!

He heard a gasp, and looked up to see Ramin staring outside as well. Mozenrath pushed up from the wall and aimed his gauntlet. Just as he was about to shoot, Aladdin wrestled him to the floor.

"Ali, get out of here!" he yelled.

Mozenrath stopped struggling and his lost attention let his charged bolt go, blue fire trickling out along the stones. He hadn't heard that name for what seemed like a hundred years, not since he had been Destane's apprentice. Ali. Like a magic spell, the name burnt his mind and awoke something he had thought was dead. Ali.

"Ali," Destane boomed, letting go of the boy's hand as they set foot on the black sand. The boy squinted up at the large dark doors through the chilling mist. "Your name it is no longer. Ali is the name of a peasant. Mozenrath is the name of a sorcerer."

"How long will it take to become a wizard?" the boy asked. "When will I go back to my family?"

Destane commanded the doors to open with a spell and bid the boy to walk inside. "Your life is here now; forget your family."

The mamluks stopped fighting when they saw their master down with no attempt to get back up. Aladdin stared at him in confusion and slowly let up on him. Mozenrath's breaths were heavy as his eyes searched anxiously around the room. They rested on the prisoner.

"His name is Ramin," he said absently.

Aladdin looked up at who he thought to be his brother. "What?"

"Ramin," Mozenrath repeated. "He's a silk merchant I abducted a few days ago."

All eyes rested on the two young men. The genie turned back to his usual form. Xerxes looked up from the corner where he had hit the wall and fallen. Aladdin got off of Mozenrath and let him stand up, staring at Ramin.

"I'm sorry," Ramin apologized, desperately. "I have a family depending on me for survival. When you said you came to free Ali and not me, I panicked. I needed to get back to them."

"Well, Ali is a better name—" Iago started before Genie clamped his beak.

"If you're not Ali, then where is he?" Aladdin wondered. He turned on Mozenrath, taking two fistfuls of his robe and pinning him to the wall. "Where are you keeping Ali?" he demanded. "Where are you keeping my brother?"

Mozenrath's jaw hung slightly open, as he glanced around piecing everything together, though the further he got in his train of thought, the more confused he became.

"Cassim," Jasmine said under her breath. "Whatever happens, will you please make sure that Ramin escapes?"

The thief nodded. "Of course."

A boy hid under the table in the dark with a small candle and a bowl of water. He said the magic words and peered frantically into the water. A man appeared, eating dinner with other men, gold piled around.

"Dad," the boy whispered. "Stop eating and look for me!" But the man in the water did not obey. A tear dripped into the pool and disrupted the image, causing it to fade to black. The boy gave a frustrated cry and overturned the bowl, water snuffing out the candle and soaking into his shoes and the folds of his robe.

Mozenrath pressed his palms into his eyes and groaned. What kind of sick illusion was this? He was Ali. Ali was Aladdin's brother. He was Aladdin's brother. And Aladdin's father was Cassim, meaning the thief… was Mozenrath's father.

"Are you going to speak up, boy, or should we move a little closer to the drop off?" Cassim threatened, coming closer.

He hesitated, muddling through this dreamlike scene, then spoke. "I… am Ali." He said it almost as a question. Everyone seemed frozen to the floor, all sound suddenly cut off, the hissing and explosions of the fire storm outside the only indication that time, itself, had not stood still. Mozenrath glanced at Aladdin and saw the horror behind his eyes as he let go and stepped back. Of course. Who would want to be related to him? A heart as black as it was numb, heroics nonexistent, physically so weak he could hardly carry his own weight anymore. Xerxes snaked up to him and gingerly approached.

"Master alright?" he asked carefully.

Mozenrath didn't answer as he slowly stood up from the wall, not bothering to straighten his rumpled clothing. He looked to his right at Cassim.

"It can't be…" is all the man said.

The fog around Mozenrath cleared as anger began bubbling to the surface. "I see how it is," he said spitefully. "When you thought Ramin was your son, you were eager to rescue him. Me, however, oh no. No celebration, no tears. Just 'It can't be.'" He stepped towards Cassim. "Well, old man, it can be." He lurked away from him and turned to face Aladdin.

"Baby brother," he mocked. "You probably don't remember what happened when I left, but I do. Destane did everything he could to get me to forget, but I never did. Do you know what our father did when he discovered I was missing?" he paused. "Go ahead and guess. Come on, I'm sure you can think of something. Give it a try."

Aladdin stared at him sternly. "I know what he did. He searched for you, and he was still searching when we met again."

"Oh, so you had a reunion too? How precious." He glared at Cassim. "And, I regret to inform you, he did not search for me, at least not after the first two years. I learned to scry when I was eight and every chance I got, I scryed him. And do you know what I saw? He was never looking for me. He was always in some cave or pilfering like a common thief, or searching for treasure. He didn't care his oldest son was gone. He didn't care I was suffering." Mozenrath hesitated and faced the hole in the wall.

"It couldn't have been all bad," Iago reasoned. "I mean, growing up in a palace, learning magic… You started on the streets, kid."

"You have no idea what it was like," he snarled. "Destane was a terrible, terrible man. His only redeeming qualities were his skill with magic and his vast library. And as for learning magic, he trained me like a horse, doing some things for no other reason than to break my spirit. He said it needed to be broken to be remolded. I think he did a good job of putting me together again, don't you?" He turned towards them and spread his arms, giving a dark and crooked smile. "A couple pieces are in the wrong place, the edges are rough, some pieces are even missing, but I'm the better for it." And he turned back to the hole.

Mozenrath squeezed his eyes closed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Xerxes tried whispering in his ear that they could be lying, but he knew deep down that they were not. These were his father and brother. Xerxes gave up and draped over his shoulders.

"Ali," Mozenrath heard Cassim say as he approached him. "I didn't mean it like that. I am excited to finally find you, I just… didn't expect it. You're a magician… that's incredible." He was directly behind him; Mozenrath quietly charged his gauntlet. "Aladdin tells the truth. The treasure I was searching for was an oracle that could tell me where my family was. Destane didn't leave any trail. I never stopped searching for you, because you're my son. I—I love you."

Mozenrath swallowed and stared into the chasm. "Oh yeah? Well, I hate you!" He spun around and shot Cassim to the far wall where he collided with a few mamluks. The sudden exertion of power caused his knees to buckle and Mozenrath grabbed onto the edge of the wall to keep himself from falling. He winced at the stinging in the bones of his right hand; Xerxes recognized the face.

"Mozenrath take gauntlet off!" he pleaded.

"Xerxes, are you out of your mind?" he grabbed the eel with the gauntlet and slowly charged it, causing Xerxes to yelp. "Whose side are you on?"

Jasmine knelt to tend to Cassim, the mamluks standing dumbly by, confused as to their role. Before Genie could stop him, Aladdin barreled towards Mozenrath. Mozenrath threw Xerxes to the side and braced himself as well as he could. Aladdin wrenched him from the wall and pinned him to the ground, but not before Mozenrath had hit him with a small blast of magic.

They struggled on the floor, fists flying, magic exploding, Genie trying to pull Aladdin off of him, Xerxes with a mouthful of Mozenrath's hair, trying to pull him away from Aladdin.

"Gauntlet kill Mozenrath!" Xerxes exclaimed through the hair. "Need rest! Careful, Master! Gauntlet kill! No good! No good!"

Despite their efforts, the brothers were not disentangled and they rolled towards the hole in the wall. Mozenrath yanked his right arm free and aimed the gauntlet at Aladdin. Aladdin grabbed the wrist and forced it away from his face, just as the ground gave out and Mozenrath found himself dangling outside the dungeon against the cliff, suspended above the fiery chasm by nothing but Aladdin gripping his right wrist, barely staying inside the citadel himself. Mozenrath looked below himself; the drop had gotten deeper in just the last few minutes. But what really concerned him was the fire raining from the glowing cloud above them. A drop hit his sleeve and he quickly patted it out with his other hand. Cassim cried out and Genie hurried forward to help them climb inside.

To Mozenrath's dismay, Aladdin was slipping as well and he cringed as he saw Aladdin's foot slip from the wall. They both freefell, Mozenrath scraping his fingers along the rock and sand for something to hold onto. Suddenly, they lurched to a stop when Aladdin clamped under his arm the roots of an old, long-uprooted tree the fire had uncovered. They hung again, and Mozenrath clenched his right hand, grabbing for Aladdin's wrist.

"Carpet!" Jasmine called. In no time, the princess and rug soared outside.

"Jasmine!" Aladdin called. "Watch out for the fire!" Just as he said that, flames grew on the rug and Carpet struggled to get them back inside, where Jasmine dove away from it and Genie worked at putting the flames out. Xerxes flew hysterically in and out of the dungeon.

"How are we supposed to get them in that weather?" Iago squawked.

Xerxes stopped for a moment, an idea sparked. "Magic cloak!" he exclaimed happily and darted out of the dungeon and towards the laboratory. He came back with a long, black cloak between his teeth. He handed it to Genie.

"Keeps spells off. Maybe help with fire, even though ripped." He flew outside to check on them and then flew inside, alarmed. "Quick! Save Mozenrath!"

"Hang in there, Mozenrath," Aladdin said, straining.

Mozenrath's skeletal hand gripped as hard as it could, but even so, he was slipping. Aladdin grunted and held his hand tighter.

"I won't let you fall to your death, Mozenrath!" he shouted. "Try a little harder!"

"I can't," Mozenrath called anxiously. "Why didn't you catch my left hand!"

The hot, dead wind blew at the brothers' hair as they watched each other. Aladdin's eyes were hard and determined, an expression Mozenrath had seen in battles, but never in a situation like this. Aladdin honestly wanted to save him. But he was beyond saving; he knew that. And now, what did he have to live for? His only home and everything he had was melting under his own stupid mistake. And he couldn't continue his attacks on the very brother he had left to help. No matter how dark and twisted his heart had become, it hadn't gone that far.

"No!" Aladdin cried as Mozenrath's hand slipped out of the gauntlet.

Mozenrath closed his eyes to feel the sensation of falling, but there was a sudden jerk on his neck. He opened them to see Aladdin holding onto his cape with all he had.

"When I say hang on, I mean it!" Aladdin called angrily. Were those tears in his eyes? Aladdin suddenly looked away and smiled. "Genie!"

Mozenrath looked also and saw Genie flying towards them with the shielding cloak over his back, the hood over his head. He flew beneath Mozenrath's feet and turned into a boat.

"Hop in," he directed cheerfully.

Aladdin let go of Mozenrath's cape and let him fall into the boat. They flew higher and Aladdin jumped in as well. As they flew up towards the dungeon, Mozenrath realized his gauntlet was missing.

"Take us into the chasm!" he directed Genie. "Quickly!"

"Are you crazy?" Aladdin asked incredulously. "We'd be roasted alive!"

Mozenrath pushed his way to the edge of the boat and looked just in time to see the gauntlet make contact with the fire and explode in black and blue flames; some of them shot so high Genie had to swerve to miss them. There was no mistaking what that meant.

"My gauntlet!" he cried in anguish, watching the disaster. He gripped the edge of the boat as they landed inside the Citadel. Genie transformed to his usual form and removed the cloak, which was only smoking a little.

"Nice thinking, Wonder Worm," he told Xerxes, patting him hard on the back. Xerxes lost altitude from the force, but righted himself and scowled at the Genie.

Mozenrath staggered toward the ledge, dropped to his knees and tore his turban from his head. "Oh, my gauntlet!" he cried. "I'm ruined!"

Everyone stood removed from the sorcerer except Cassim. When he got to his feet, he gripped his wounded side and walked slowly towards his son. Xerxes lighted on Mozenrath's shoulder and peered into the chasm.

"Better without, Xerxes thinks," he said with a nod of finality. "Xerxes was concerned whether Mozenrath last much longer with gauntlet."

Mozenrath rolled his eyes. "Even my ailing pet is concerned for my well-being," he muttered to himself. "Is no one selfish but me?"

Xerxes looked confused. "Xerxes not sick."

"I meant old."

"Xerxes not old either. Younger than Master. Lots of years left. Live very long time."

Mozenrath looked at Xerxes. "But what about all that increased eating and sleeping?"

"Master not do either very well," the eel confessed. "Xerxes try to make Mozenrath good health and happy. All Xerxes want."

A thin smile traced Mozenrath's lips, but it disappeared when Cassim knelt beside him. He looked away and was silent. Cassim sighed and sat down, crossing his legs, hissing at his injury.

"I suppose I had that coming," he said in a soft, good natured tone.

"You expect me to forgive you," Mozenrath stated flatly. "And then the sun will come out, flowers will grow, and birds will start singing," He stared at the floor, absently stroking Xerxes. He glanced at the mamluks and then at the ceiling. "This is my tomb," he continued. "Started by Destane, finished by myself. Let me die in it."

"If that is what you want."

Mozenrath furrowed his brow at the unexpected response. He looked at his father. "What?"

Cassim shrugged. "I can't make you do anything; you're a grown man." He stared intently into Mozenrath's eyes. "But I do want you to reconsider. Fate doesn't often give second chances. This family was torn apart and, by all natural laws, it should have been destroyed. But somehow, it came together with a new chance at life. Shouldn't you accept this gift?" He motioned towards Aladdin. "Aladdin came after us, to repair our family. Don't you wish things hadn't turned out the way they did? Don't you wish, even in the slightest part of yourself, that you could go back and start again?"

Start again. Mozenrath looked down at his right arm, noticing small craters in the bone and tried to imagine it before the gauntlet. With the gauntlet gone, memories he didn't even remember he had forgotten began coming to his cleared mind. He remembered he used to have a white, shimmering scar across that forearm from a cat scratch when he was young. He turned his skeletal hand over slowly; he remembered the freckle on his palm and the calluses where his palm met his fingers. He even remembered the grass bracelet Aladdin had made for him the summer before he left.

His vision began fading out as if he were retreating from the world and he wobbled, thankful that he was already on his knees. Suddenly, his strength gave out and he toppled sideways to feel Cassim's arms holding him up.

"Thank you," his own voice seemed far off. "I can take it from here. I'm tired, is all."

"I think it's more than that, son," Cassim insisted.

"Probably some sort of magical withdrawal," Genie chimed in. "That happens sometimes when a person is bound to a magical device for a long amount of time. I've seen it happen to some of my previous masters. They took years before they finished wishing their wishes, and when I was no longer tied to them, they went through the same thing. He'll need someone to look after him for a while."

The ground shook and boulders crashed somewhere inside the citadel. Mozenrath's fortress was not holding up against the fire storm.

"Well, we can't stay here," Jasmine stated, turning to Aladdin.

Aladdin stared longingly at Mozenrath. "We'll take him to the palace," he announced. "I'm sure the sultan won't mind, once he hears the story."

"Of course he won't mind," Iago commented, pacing across the floor and stepping around Abu. "Two convicted felons in the palace at the same time. What a treat!"

"The only other option is my place," Aladdin reasoned. "But it isn't a great hospital."

"Al," Genie said gently, "Hiding criminals from the sultan might make things rocky for your and Jasmine's wedding."

"You're getting married?" Cassim asked, shocked.

"Yeah, Dad," Aladdin replied. "There's a lot of stuff you don't know about me."

"So the palace it is," Jasmine concluded.

Mozenrath struggled to sit up, shaking his head to make his senses more alert; it didn't work very well. "I'll not be made a prisoner, Aladdin."

"I'll do everything I can, Mozenrath," Aladdin promised. "I'll talk to the sultan and if it sounds like you won't be welcome, I'll… I'll keep you in my place until you recover. I promise."

Mozenrath's right arm throbbed and he let himself lie back down. He was in no condition to argue.

"So be it," he consented, his eyes closed. "But just so you know, I'll probably come back here and rebuild, once I get my strength back. I'm not at all sure I want to be part of a dysfunctional family with you two."

Cassim nodded. "We're dysfunctional, I won't deny. We certainly have a long way to go, but I hope I'll be able to prove to you and Aladdin that I don't want to harm either of you ever again. All I want is what I've wanted since I left: to have my wife and boys back."

Mozenrath hadn't been included in the term, "boys" for twenty years. And it stung, but in a good way, like cleaning out a wound, breathing hard on a cold night, or drinking ice water after a hot day on the dunes. Something inside of him warmed, something small, but still a piece of him. He didn't realize he had desired such a label until having sampled it again, he found himself thirsty for more. He wanted his family; he wanted life!

As he lay crumpled on the cold stone floor, Xerxes breathing in his ear, the revelation hit him in the gut, as if he had been an exile in a harsh land for too long: he was finally going home. The small boy inside him cried, carefully stifled by his mature outer shell. But still, he felt his heart beat for what felt like the first time.

He was going home.


	17. Laying the Past to Rest

Mozenrath never imagined he would be standing where he was: Aladdin to his left, his father to his right, and his mother's grave before them all. He had always thought that if anyone died in their family, it would have been himself, since he had endured so much so young; he couldn't believe his mother was gone forever. Xerxes and all of Aladdin's friends were gathered around as well, including the Sultan – who probably just came to keep up his reputation for kindness.

It had been a long time coming, but his withdrawal symptoms had receded almost entirely, and he could walk without staggering and think clearly again; however, he still felt weak without the gauntlet and found himself going without sleep some nights thinking about it. But all in all, he felt better, as if the outlet of his life-force had been stopped up, keeping all the life he had left inside his own body without any danger of it leaking out. Ordinary magic only used his energy and with practice, he was regaining his strength and endurance while exercising it.

Mozenrath fidgeted with the silk that wrapped his right hand as he stared at the small weather-beaten stone stuck in the sand, the writing illegible from the many sand storms. Aladdin had chosen a good sheltered spot for the headstone and it had not been buried. It was a pity Mozenrath hadn't been there when she died; Aladdin should not have had to bury their mother alone. Sure, some of the neighbors probably helped, but what a lonely role for a young boy to take; and Mozenrath knew all about loneliness.

Cassim clutched the lilies in his hands tighter as he approached the grave; he knelt and arranged them delicately at the base of the stone. He stroked it lovingly.

"Oh Bahira," he said gently, "look at our boys. Hansom, aren't they? And what a wonderful girl Aladdin's found." He traced the grooves of the letters with his fingers, "I sure wish you were here to see them." He sighed. "I should have come back and taken you both with me after I lost the trail. Maybe I could have…" He hesitated and bowed his head, shoulders shaking, and though he made no sound, Mozenrath knew he was weeping.

"It wasn't really, entirely your fault," said Mozenrath, his tone quiet yet hard. He wasn't Aladdin, mind you, who could pull tears and sympathy out of a hat. "I mean, if Destane had never come, if I had never said 'yes,' we…" Cassim looked up at him. Things were getting much too uncomfortable and he focused on folding his silk. "Well, you know."

"I think the wiz kid almost said something nice," Iago gawked from Aladdin's shoulder.

"Give him a break, Iago," Jasmine scolded.

"Yeah," Aladdin agreed. "He's doing his best." He smirked at Mozenrath who pretended not to see it.

The Sultan folded his hands and stared at the sand solemnly. "This is a sad way to spend the morning before your wedding," he commented.

"It's only right," Aladdin replied, holding Jasmine's dainty hand in his. "She was my mother, after all."

Iago floated in the air. "Well, you love birds and…" he gave Mozenrath a look. "…guests… better get ready soon! You look like you've been making sand angels."

"You don't look so spiffy yourself, Iago," Genie pointed out poking him in the chest.

Iago brushed himself off and lost a few feathers. "Eh, I'll wade around in the fountain for a few minutes and be as good as new. But Cassim and Mozenrath—"

"Ali," Cassim, Aladdin, Jasmine and Genie corrected.

"Cassim and Ali," Iago consented, "Can't come to your wedding dressed like they're going to a funeral."

"You needn't worry," the Sultan assured him. "Proper clothes have been provided."

Mozenrath crossed his arms. "I don't see why I need to come to your wedding anyway," he grumbled. "Everyone will be staring at me, even though they're supposed to be looking at you and the princess; you know they will. And then what? Is there going to be a disclaimer before the ceremony begins to explain our whole gory past?"

Aladdin laid a hand on Mozenrath's shoulder. "The people of Agrabah are just going to have to get used to seeing you around, since the Sultan has pardoned you."

"On good behavior," the Sultan added, as if he were afraid they had forgotten. "No backsliding, mind you."

Mozenrath slowly pushed the hand off. "Just so you know, I'm still considering going back to the Land of the Black Sand."

Aladdin didn't seem phased by it. "You haven't left yet."

A clock appeared on Genie's wrist and a bell inside it rang. He glanced at its face and gasped. "Oh my goodness!" he exclaimed. "The wedding starts in three hours and we're not even in the palace!" he transformed into a stewardess and stood on the corner of Carpet. "All aboard the carpet express!"

Everyone climbed onto the magic carpet, but Mozenrath lagged behind, turning back to his mother's grave. He approached it and, looking over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching, pulled a small purple flower from his sleeve that he had tucked there earlier. He laid it atop the lilies and closed his eyes for a moment.

"Hi, Mom," he said under his breath. "I'm back." He glanced over his shoulder at Xerxes hovering around the genie, who was transforming into a sleigh, for there were too many to fit on the carpet. He looked back to the grave. "I don't know what this new life will hold, but please help me not to mess it up, or if you can't, send someone who can."

"Hey Ali, you coming?" Aladdin called.

Mozenrath straightened up and walked over to the rest of the group, Xerxes flying to his side. He seated himself on the magic carpet and the group soared over the streets bustling with wedding preparations to the sandstone steps of the palace. Genie turned back to his usual form and sprouted more hands, nudging everyone in their proper directions.

"Hurry, hurry!" he prodded. "Go get changed!"

Mozenrath didn't appreciate being pushed, and Xerxes actually nipped at the genie's fingers, but he went to the room they occupied all the same to get dressed into the suit that had been made for him.


	18. Epilogue

The day was a rare one; rain fell in the dust and cooled Agrabah, the earthy scents drifting into the throne room and over the heads of the seated guests, over Mozenrath's head. Maybe the weather sensed that the natural order had been breached, and it had been thrown off for a day. Who would have ever thought he would be a guest at his enemy's wedding? It hit him how wrong this was. He sat on a bench, dressed in a blue and golden robe with a white Egyptian linen turban adorning his clean black curls. Xerxes lay on his lap, lulled to sleep by Mozenrath's contemplative stroking. Cassim, his newly found father, sat beside him, a wide smile on his trimmed bearded face; the sultan had pardoned him on good behavior as well, and he seemed to have forgotten his shady past.

What he always feared had come true: his Citadel, his legacy and his gauntlet were all gone, burnt to the ground. He was back to the level he had been at age nine. His gauntlet was gone! And yet, the air seemed clearer. He could hear the rain, he could smell the earth and the colors of the room were brighter than any colors he ever remembered seeing.

Aladdin and Jasmine stood at the altar with the Sultan, looking into each others' eyes with a love almost too sweet to bear. They vowed to care for one another 'til death.

Why am I here? Mozenrath asked himself with a frustrated sigh. It had been over a month since the discovery of his kin, and he had contemplated leaving many times, sometimes Xerxes being the only one to keep him there. Where had that eel gotten such opinions? He hadn't considered leaving for several days now, but seeing his brother and the princess look at each other like that, all the happiness in the room concentrated on them, he had half a mind to sneak out and start down the road by himself.

Cassim quietly lay his arm around Mozenrath's shoulders and met his son's offended look with a smile befitting a good father. He was taken back to the years with Destene as a young child.

"Why won't you come, Dad?" he cried as loud as he dared at the bowl of water in his small, dark room. "Why won't you come?"

His father had finally come, he realized. Almost too late, but not quite. Xerxes had seen he was fading, and the catastrophe probably had happened just in time. He thought about his father's arm around his shoulders and watched Aladdin up on the platform: his brother. The bride and groom kissed and the audience exploded into applause and got to their feet. Mozenrath stood slower, bidding Xerxes to wake up; he did and settled onto his master's shoulders, which caused Cassim to jerk his arm away. Xerxes smiled deviously and Mozenrath did too at his father's humorous disgust.

As Aladdin and his bride passed by, he locked gazes with Mozenrath. Not a smile, but something that seemed to say, quite solemnly: "It's good to have you back, brother."

And though Mozenrath still had darkness scattered thickly throughout his soul, pieces of Ali were beginning to shine through and he nodded in reply: "It's good to be back."

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had been putting off writing the epilogue because I wanted to make sure it was good, and then while searching for the brainstorming notes I had lost, I found that I had already written it in my notebook many chapters ago. :) I hope you have enjoyed this tale.


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